Do the Wrong Thing
by Bethofbells
Summary: I wanted to write a fic that took the little scenes we saw tiny pieces of in the montage during the finale and flesh them out into chapters that tell the story of Danny trying to make Mindy fall in love with him. :D
1. Zuppa

**A/N: This should be a multi-chapter fic written over the course of... well however long it takes. I wanted to take those little scene-lets we saw in the Montage in the season Finale and flesh them out. This first chapter isn't from the montage, but I think it sets up the fic pretty well. :D Enjoy, and by all means, please feel free to leave comments and reviews. I really love them, and suggestions are always taken into consideration. (and btw, i've gotten some smut prompts that i'll get to eventually as well, probably post as one shots)**

He should have felt guilty, not telling her right away, but damn it, she'd smiled at him in a way he hadn't seen in so long, and his resolve had just crumbled, the words still trapped in his throat. He needed her to smile that way all the time, a sunbeam to chase away the fear and uncertainty that sometimes settled over him. He needed her.

So no, guilt wasn't what he felt cuddled up as friends, watching her favorite movie, her head on his shoulder where he just knew it belonged. He was grateful that she's steamrolled him with her enthusiasm for lazing the day away, reciting that ridiculous list of almost comically boring things he enjoyed so much. She had desired his company, and it had left him speechless. He was being handed what he wanted on a silver platter, and all it took was a little lying and manipulation.

So maybe he did feel a bit guilty, and maybe that guilt ate at him just a little, a pernicious anxiety churning away in his stomach, manifesting itself in a strong and probably well-deserved dose of self-loathing. How had he gotten this way? How could he be so emotionally stunted that he could only tell her what he felt through letters? When had cowardice engulfed him to the point where he had to pretend to be someone else just to tell her he loved her?

In his defense, it had never been his intention to deceive her, at least not to the point where she'd be left crying in the unusually cold spring air at the top of the Empire State Building, gazing out over the city's twinkling lights, wondering why she'd been rejected… again.

She shifted against him, mumbling something incoherent in her sleep, an unmistakable frown pinching the corners of her mouth. He lifted his arm up, careful not to wake her, and curled it around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest a little. A tiny sigh escaped her parted lips as she rested her head on his chest. He could see the tracks on her cheeks where tears had dried, tears shed for an imaginary knight in shining armor. The self-loathing began to stir again. How could he have done this to her?

His palms had been sweaty, a tremulous uncertainty in his chest, when he'd called the newspaper to place the missed connection ad. He'd known he was venturing into a moral gray area, instigating a deception that had the potential to be very hurtful, but he hadn't been able to stop himself. He just needed to know. Did she see herself being with Charlie for good? Had he completely lost her?

He almost threw the paper away, knowing she would never randomly pick up one on her own. How many times had she proudly told Danny that she had a _New York Times _subscription on her tablet? That newspapers got her fingers dirty, and she was not about to spend fifty dollars at the dry cleaners just to read about politics and war. It was his last chance to stop before things got truly out of hand. He could have put the brakes on before it all careened out of control. He hadn't, he couldn't. Instead he'd carefully arranged it on the break room table, flipped open to the missed connections, lying innocently next to the coffee cake. And he'd waited, a hard lump of fear in his throat.

He'd played it amazingly cool, not stuttering or sweating or speaking at an unnecessarily loud volume. He'd practiced his reaction to her finding the article over and over again. Ironing out the wrinkles in his expression, the twitches, the breaks in his voice. It was a testament to his desperation, to his inability to behave sanely. It was pathetic.

To ease his troubled conscience he'd even discouraged her from contacting Andy, thinking that if he set the odds against it then he would really know how she felt. He _had_ to know.

That was the mantra that had run through his head. He told himself this as he checked his dummy inbox over and over again. Closing the window only to open it again five minutes later, feeling his stomach drop in disappointment each time. He just needed to know. If she emailed him, that would be it. The mysterious Andy would never respond, and Danny wouldn't feel guilty about trying to win her back.

Of course, he'd underestimated the temptation writing her letters had for him. He'd missed her, terribly, and it was so much easier to tell her things in letters. It was as though his fingers were possessed. "I can't believe I found you." It was true, in so many senses. He'd finally found her, finally found someone he wanted to be around all the time, someone who made him want to be a better person, a happier person. And then immediately lost her. He cursed himself on a daily basis for being such an ass, for going about things all wrong, and yet here he was, screwing up again.

For the second time, he'd told himself to stop this nonsense, to quit before she got sucked into the character he created, but he was like an addict, and having her talk to him unreservedly again was like a drug he'd been denied for months. He found himself straying away from the character he'd created, telling her about his day, minus the things that would have given him away. Then she'd done it, she'd said things with Charlie weren't serious and she'd agreed to meet him. For the briefest of moments, an overwhelming giddiness had coursed through his limbs and he found himself smiling at the prospect of her being his again, no matter how unrealistic it was.

He hadn't been looking forward to the inevitable screaming match that would follow his confession, or the possibility that he'd messed up so badly that she wouldn't forgive him. But he'd had hope, this faint yet persistent glimmer in his heart that she might forgive him, engendered by her own optimism and all those romantically idealistic movies she'd made him watch. He couldn't shake the hope that she might see him at the top of the Empire State Building, dressed up, waiting for her, his heart in his hands, and that she might forgive him, see it as some kind of grand gesture. That she'd jump at the chance to quote one of her favorite movies and say, "I wanted it to be you."

But, that tiny glimmer had been completely snuffed out, and he should have seen it coming, really. When was life ever like the movies? When did anything good ever come of deceiving someone you loved? When had hope gotten him anywhere anyway? She was over him, and happier for it. And, as if the universe were playing some cruel joke on him, it was his own words that had tightened the noose. When exactly he became an authority on relationships and what men want, he'd never know. And he'd also never know when she started listening to the pessimistic things he spouted either.

He hadn't expected her to be so heartbroken, to wait all night. He'd completely underestimated her attachment to this fictional character, to the idea of finding true love. When she hadn't shown up at work, his heart had cleaved in two, his throat closing up, tears pricking at the back of his eyes in the brief moment before Tamra and Morgan had confronted him.

He knew she was at home, calling in sick because Jeremy didn't allow heartbreak days. Danny never thought he'd be the cause of her heartbreak a second time.

That's how he came to be lying here, a fuzzy warmth in his chest as he watched Meg Ryan sob into her pillow the morning after that son of a bitch Billy Crystal ran away. Disgust crashed over him again. What kind of man ran in the opposite direction when offered everything he ever wanted? Ever needed? Cowards.

Her breath puffed out softly against his chest as she snored, one hand tucked underneath her chin, resting squarely against his heart. It would be ok with him if they spent the rest of their lives like this, suspended in one moment in time, in an illusion of togetherness before everything unraveled. She stirred, looking up at him briefly, a little surprised before she turned her attention back to the movie. "Oh, I missed my favorite part."

"Which part is that?"

She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Well, besides the ending obviously, it's when she's upset and he comes over to console her. In that moment, he's the only person that knows exactly what to say, exactly what to do. It's too bad he has to ruin it all, even if it's temporary." Her voice gets quiet, and she says the last four words slowly, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Shit. Danny is reminded once again how he came to be here. The foolish mistakes he'd made along the way. He'd come here, soup in hand, ready to confess and apologize and beg her to forgive him. He'd given up hope that she could possibly want him back after this, and he was truly afraid that he'd done things that would push her away forever. Telling would have been the right thing to do. Even if she never wanted to speak to him again, it would have been the right thing to do.

But sometimes doing the right thing was hard. Especially when doing the right might break open the earth in a chasm wider than the Grand Canyon, leaving you and the person you love on opposite sides. So, in what seemed to be a destructively cyclical pattern, Danny did the wrong thing, hoping it would turn out right... eventually.


	2. Auld Lang Syne

**A/N: the pacing of this story is not exactly what I thought it would be. It looks like it might be a lot longer than I'd anticipated, but I like writing long fics better anyway so.. :P They haven't quite made it to the first scene of the montage. Getting close though. Please leave reviews letting me know what you think if you want. I appreciate all the feedback I get. ****I'm totally needy.**

The credits rolled across the screen, and Mindy sighed deeply, pulling away from Danny and sitting upright. For the first time ever, she didn't feel better after watching her favorite movie. She felt the tears pooling in her eyes again, her bottom lip trembling slightly. Usually, watching Harry clutch at Sally while _Auld Lang Syne _played tugged at her heartstrings like nothing else, leaving her feeling satisfied and misty eyed for an altogether different reason. But this time she felt empty. Whatever part of her that had once believed that Ephronesque moments could happen in real life was gone. She was left with a cold vacuum where it had once been.

This whole debacle with Andy had taken something from her, something she thought she'd never lose. Her faith in happy endings. That knowledge that someday there would be someone who could step into Tom Hanks' impossible to fill shoes, (admittedly she'd rather have Joe Fox than Harry Burns, 'favorite movie' was more of a tier really) and kiss her softly while violins swelled and dogs barked in the background, a cool fall wind whipping at the tails of her coat. That stars-in-her-eyes sense of wonder when it came to romance was gone. Right now she didn't think she could ever watch another stupid romantic comedy again.

She blinked and felt the hot tears slide down her cheeks. Of all places to be when swearing off classic romantic comedies, she had to live in New York City, where all it took was walking down the street to put you smack dab in the middle of ooey gooey sticky sweet rom/com induced flashback. It used to be one of the things she'd loved most about the city.

Danny shifted at her side, worried by her prolonged silence. She looked away from him, determined not to let him see the stupid tears staining her nightgown. This was an issue, one that she hadn't anticipated. She'd been delusional, thinking her heart was broken over Andy. This wasn't really about him, not at all. He'd merely been a temporary distraction, an idea more than a person. She'd clutched so desperately at that idea, and now she was left holding nothing, reminded that the real issue was lying next to her.

"Mindy?" She felt his light touch at her elbow, her name coming out in that soft tone he seemed to reserve only for her. This was the last thing she needed. One step forward, and fifteen back, it seemed. "You ok?"

She shouldn't have asked him to stay, but when he'd sat down on the edge of her bed, his cologne had wafted up to her nose carried by his body heat, triggering some comforting sense memory. Her instincts had taken over, a broad grin spreading across her face as she practically begged him to stay.

She felt like an idiot now. He was part of the problem, a major part of the problem, to be honest. Her eager acceptance of Andy's amorous letters had been spurred on by her desire to leave her relationship with Danny in the dust. Things with Charlie hadn't done the trick. Something indefinable had been missing, a sense of urgency perhaps? All she knew was that Charlie was nice and funny, but he wasn't her person. He was missing something, a softer side, a deeply hidden warmth? It was hard to say. He just wasn't the kind of guy to send her flowers for no reason, or bring her soup when she was sick. Cold medicine, maybe, but soup? Probably not. Logically, she knew Danny should not have been the standard by which everyone else was compared. What had he done to deserve that status?

She grunted an affirmation at Danny, the tears drying up when she found herself comparing the two men. "It's just not the same anymore. I don't think it ever will be. Movies are so unrealistic." She glanced at her clock. It was half past one, and she hadn't even gotten dressed. She levered herself up off the bed, making her way to the closet. The routine of getting dressed, putting on her Mindy-Lahiri-coat-of-armor was like donning another layer of self confidence. That's what she needed right now. She had to stop wallowing.

"What'll never be the same?"

Danny's shoes squeaked on the hardwood floor behind her, his inescapable body heat radiating behind her. She ignored it, choosing instead to gaze at her rainbow array of expensive fabrics and eye catching embellishments. Something in here would make her feel better, she was sure of it. Turning her head slightly, she looked at Danny over her shoulder. "I'm done with romantic comedies. Tom Hanks and Billy Crystal? They don't exist, Danny. I can't believe it's taken me so long to realize it." She stepped into her closet, running her fingers along the sleeves hanging on her left, flipping through them she paused only occasionally in consideration.

He stopped at the threshold, leaning against the doorjamb. Shooting her a funny look, his brows furrowing, he said, "What do you mean they don't exist? They're human beings. Of course they exist."

"Stop being obtuse, you know I'm talking about their characters. Embracing my inner pessimist, and all that." She heard him laugh behind her, the sound doing funny things to her diaphragm. She pursed her lips, breathing deeply to remind herself that Danny was the problem and not the solution.

"I think, or rather, hope that you mean 'realist'." Absorbed in perusing her wardrobe, Mindy didn't catch the flash of guilt zipping across Danny's face, his shoulders tensing slightly.

She shrugged. "Eh, same difference."

Maybe she was approaching this new, uber realistic outlook on life in the wrong way. Maybe instead of being sad every time she saw a romantically charged landmark, she should just force herself to view it for what it really was. Carefully crafted brick and mortar. Nothing more, nothing less.

She had to start doing it with men, too. They were just bundles of hidden emotions and insecurities like everyone else, housed in occasionally impressive, ofttimes not, flesh and bone. This ridiculous idealization is what had gotten her into this mess. There was no such thing as the perfect man, the romantic ideal. She had to stop living in a fantasyland of what-if's. Stop pretending that Danny was this elusive catch she'd let slip through her fingers. It was so much simpler than all of that. They just weren't right for each other.

She closed her eyes for a second, willing herself to take off the rose colored designer shades. If she took out her pros and cons list, Danny's cons column would definitely be piling up entries, but she struggled to give them the weight they deserved, focusing instead on the way he read her books using silly voices. Or, the way he kissed her. Like a man dying of thirst, her lips the font of a glacial spring. Or, the way she fit into him so perfectly, her head under his chin so much like coming home.

Ok, so baby steps. Demystify the landmarks, then start hacking away at the men. She jerked a printed green wrap dress off the hanger, mentally pairing it with her favorite bright green pea coat. It was perfect. The color of envy. She knew she looked hot in it, that the bright tone complimented her dark skin. In all likelihood she'd be the center of attention wherever she went today. She needed that.

Whirling around, she took Danny by surprise. He'd been staring at her with a soft expression in his eyes, a barely-there smile settling on his parted lips. She swallowed, her resolve weakening slightly.

No, she steeled herself, rushing forward with her new persona. "Danny. We're going to Washington Square. I need to remind myself that life is not a Nora Ephron movie, and pushing couple of mid-westerners, cameras hanging around their necks, out of the way to look at the arch is just what I need."

The argument she'd been expecting didn't come. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, eyes darting back and forth trying to figure out how he should react. Finally, he pushed away from the threshold. "Whatever you need. I'll, uh, step out so you can get dressed." He slipped through the door, leaving her alone, before she could respond.

She'd been prepared to convince him, to lay out a point by point argument on why he should come with her. The first being the fact that he probably didn't have anything better to do. But he'd acquiesced with barely a flutter of his eyelids, almost as if he'd jump at any chance to spend time with her.

She felt the fog again, the fuzzy warmth in her chest that she'd thought was gone forever, a faraway look glazing over her eyes. Catching herself, she shook her head, letting out a sharp little "Stop it!" as she began to change.

Baby steps, Lahiri. Teeny tiny baby steps.


	3. Il Barista

**A/N: the third chapter, finally they make it to washington square park :P. I'm enjoying writing this, and I hope people are enjoying reading it. As always, feel free to leave a review. I really appreciate suggestions and comments.**

Mindy walked ahead of him, her heels clicking determinedly on the asphalt. Danny wondered if she was intentionally trying to outpace him or if she was just in a hurry to get to their destination. He'd suggested a cab when they'd exited her building, but she'd refused, saying she needed take all of New York in with a fresh pair of eyes. Whatever that had meant.

It didn't really surprise him, that when she slowed down, he could hear her voice, high pitched as always, although at a significantly lower volume, narrating their walk. Although, the tone and subject matter of that narration was decidedly different than it had been in the past.

"... and so the vagrants, desperately clinging to their last hopes of escaping the ravenous maw of a city determined to devour them, sprawl haphazardly against the urine soaked concrete of a repurposed tenement, unwittingly becoming the latest accessories to a hip new neighborhood intent on gentrification."

She had her hands tucked in the pockets of her coat, shoulders hunched forward as she marched on. Danny caught up to her, hooking his hand at her elbow, intent on slowing her down a bit. "Hey… What are you talking about?"

She slowed somewhat, pulling him along with her. "The _real_ New York City, Danny. That's what." She turned her head a little, angling it in the direction of a man they'd just passed on the street. "I bet that guy came to the city to become a famous jazz musician, but lost his way, succumbing to the siren call of loose women and the increasingly elusive high of opiates shooting through his veins." She wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of her eye. "It's just so depressing."

Danny looked in the direction she pointed him, noting a middle aged man, glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he walked between the meters lining the street. Stopping occasionally to write something on a clipboard and print a ticket from the machine hanging from a holster on his hip. "Mindy, that's a meter maid."

Mindy trudged on, mercilessly. "Well, of course he's a meter maid now. After he hit rock bottom and climbed his way back out of the pit, making a new life for himself. It's only late at night, when the atmosphere is thick, and his mind is cleared of parking violations and expired meters, that he remembers, with the most poignant nostalgia, the music that was once his life."

Danny shook his head. It was odd hearing her wax poetic about New York in this way. He was used to her over romanticizing things to the point where he thought maybe she was high, but this was going too far in the opposite direction. "He's a meter maid. It's a respectable profession, and he probably gets enough crap on a daily basis without you mentally turning him into a sax playing heroin addict."

They came to an intersection, instinctively looking both ways before they crossed the street, Danny's hand unconsciously finding the small of her back as he walked slightly behind her, glancing back and forth again as they reached the other side.

Danny felt completely responsible for Mindy's new gloomy outlook. He sighed, withdrawing his hand. "He seemed content to me. Doing his job, probably thinking about five o'clock rolling around, going home to see his wife, maybe his two kids."

Mindy stopped abruptly, turning to face Danny. The sudden motion took him by surprise, and he found himself walking into her, reaching out with his hands to steady the both of them. That's how she came to be in his arms for the first time in so long. Her face pressed up against his neck, quick little breaths puffing out against his skin. His hands tingled where they rested on her shoulders, and he ached to let them journey further. Resisting the urge to prolong the contact, he quickly withdrew.

She looked up at him, the expression on her face somewhat incredulous. "That's what you see?"

"Huh?"

"When you look at that man, you see a hard working yet happy family man, with a loving wife and kids at home? Not some single, lonely guy who's probably had his heart stomped on? All of his dreams pushed to the side in service of eking out a living?"

Danny was confused by the accusatory tone of her voice, and concerned by the slight tremble at the edge of it. He swallowed. "I see a man, Mindy. That's all. There's nothing you can know just by looking at someone."

Her eyes were wide, and she looked at him like he had antlers growing out of his head. Closing her eyes for a second, she cleared away the confusion. Pursing her lips, she let out a thoughtful little hum before turning and continuing their walk, this time at a more leisurely pace. "Danny, let's play a game."

"A game?"

"Yeah, let's people watch. I'll pick out pedestrians and you'll tell me their back stories."

His first instinct was to balk at her request, insist that it was a pointless exercise, but there was a soft quality to her voice, an almost pleading look in her eyes, that made it impossible to say no. "Ok."

She smiled, looping her arm through his as they walked. Her game didn't start immediately. Every couple of feet they passed another person, but she would just give them a quick up and down look before shaking her head and moving on.

Danny enjoyed the companionable silence, and found himself for the second time in one day slipping into this carefully crafted fantasyland. Is this what it would be like if they were together? Leisurely strolls through the city, her clinging to his arm as she strode purposely beside him in her too high heels? Why had he thrown this away? He needed this to be real.

By the time she found another individual worthy of Danny's story telling abilities they were almost at the park. She stopped, tugging at his arm when he continued his forward motion. "There." She nodded to their right, indicating a couple across the street, unabashedly making out in the shadow of a coffee shop awning. The girl was probably in her mid to late twenties, wearing a fashionable, Danny would even say Mindy-esque, ensemble. The man, was older, the silver just beginning to whisper at his temples, his clothing much more subdued.

"The couple?"

"Yes."

Danny felt his palms begin to sweat. Suddenly the game they were playing felt slightly dangerous. He paused, biting the inside of his cheek, trying to think of the right thing to say.

He felt her hand slip out from under his arm, and glanced down at her as she brushed the hair out of her face.

She smiled at his hesitance. "Look, I'll go first, since you seem to do your best work when you're contradicting me." She peered at the couple, furrowing her brow a little, biting her bottom lip in thought. "Aha! I have it. She's a down on her luck part time barista, come to New York City from the mid-west, intent on becoming a Broadway star, but she hasn't had an audition in months. He's her boyfriend, at least she thinks he is. Although he has a wife and kids in Queens, and probably a burgeoning dependence on alcohol. Right now while they're playing tonsil hockey, he's transmitting the germs required for a vicious cold that will cause her to develop laryngitis and never be able to sing again. She'll crawl back home to the mid-west, marry the first farmer to ask for her hand, and only sing when she needs to call the cows home. How depressing."

Danny watched her as she spoke, seeing the emotions flit across her face as she carried on about this tragic little barista. At first she'd been playful, getting into her whimsical story, but as she'd begun to wind down, her face had fallen, and the sheen of very real tears had formed in her eyes.

He'd done this to her, taken away the eternal sunshine that once coursed through her. Was this how he sounded? He knew he was never this dramatic, but the echoes of his own cynicism that he heard in her voice broke his heart. His throat was tight, and he knew his voice would break if he spoke immediately. Instead he just shook his head.

"You disagree?"

Clearing his throat, he sucked in a lung full of air. "That's ridiculous. Look how happy she is. Just because they're in front of a coffee shop doesn't mean she's a barista." They walked on down the street, leaving the kissing couple in their rear-view. Danny wracked his brain for some alternate reality. Remembering the hallmark movies she'd made him watch, her own little narratives that he'd heard so many times. Inspiration finally struck. "She's probably a ballet teacher, successful, and that's her fiance, a widower with a child. They met when he brought his tiny daughter to dance class. She fell in love with the child and then with the man. They're very happy together."

He looked over at her expectantly, unable to anticipate her reaction to his story. She wasn't looking at him, but rather off into the distance, a dreamy little smile playing at her lips. "Yeah, I guess that could be it too." She sighed a little, looking back to him. "In a perfect world."

They'd finally arrived at the park, the famous arch filling up the landscape. Mindy pulled away from him, walking up closer, position herself directly in front of the thing, a determined look on her face. Danny gave her some space. The look of purpose on her face told him she needed a little privacy, and he watched her from a distance.

Hands on hips, feet planted squarely beneath her, she confronted the monument. Her eyebrows furrowing as her lips mumbled short clipped sentences, even gesturing occasionally to the tourists posing for pictures. She looked like a lunatic, but he found himself smiling anyway. The group of Japanese tourists would have something to write home about, perhaps even thinking this was some sort of strange street performance.

Finally her motions stilled, the angry expression on her face giving way to one of disappointment. He returned to her side, hand once again finding it's place along her lower back. Leaning into her ear, he whispered, "You ok?"

She shied away from him, the motion squeezing at his heart. "I'm fine. Just had a conversation with the late Nora Ephron." She looked up to the sky. "If she were still alive, I would have written her a strongly worded letter, but I suppose this will have to do."

In spite of the sad tone of her voice, Danny let out a short chuckle. "Lucky for her then."

She frowned at him, fighting the pull at the corner of her mouth, she shoved her elbow into his rib cage. "Shut up."

Laughing in earnest this time, he felt bold and quickly captured her hand, ignoring the look of surprise that chased across her face as he pulled her away from the arch. "Come on, there's more to Washington Square Park than tourists gawking at the arch."

She let him drag her along, suddenly feeling full to bursting with some emotion she'd tried valiantly to push away. It wasn't fair how easily they slipped into this. How right it felt. She wondered what intricate backstory a stranger would contrive for the two of them. She was certain no one would put together something as dissatisfying as their reality.

With her hand clasped in his, it was hard for her to reconcile that reality with the way she felt. How could she still be so in love with someone who didn't want her in that way? He'd broken her heart and she'd tried, so hard, to move on. That stupid dalliance with Lee had left her feeling sick, and she done the emotional equivalent with Andy. Neither of which had been real in any way. This was real. Could he see it?

Mindy shook her head as he tugged her past the fountain, heading toward the chess tables. She was certain she'd never look at the monument behind her in the same way again. She'd fully cleansed it of that Hollywood glow. But now she was worried she'd feel the sweat of Danny's palm against hers, or the sound of his low chuckle every time she passed by here. Was that really any better?


	4. Scacchi

**A/N: I'm really enjoying writing this story, like I said before, it's probably going to be quite long. Something to do over hiatus and whatnot. Please feel free to leave any reviews, comments, or suggestions. :D I really appreciate them.**

He pulled her along behind him, floating slightly as he felt her fingers curl around his. She kept talking about seeing New York in a new way, seeing the real city. Well, he thought maybe he could be the one to show it to her.

She laughed, finding his enthusiasm contagious. "Oh, Danny, look at all these people. I thought only people being interrogated by Ice-T on SVU played chess in the park."

He rolled his eyes, slowing their pace so they could leisurely stroll past the occupied tables. "I wish I had my set with me."

"Your set?"

"My chess set. My uncle Silvio gave me a really nice one when I was a kid. He used to bring me here a lot." He laughed, remembering the mischievous old man. "As much as he irritated my mother, she had little choice when it came to childcare. He used to bring me and Richie here sometimes in the summer to play in the fountain when we were kids. He'd spend a whole day playing blitz chess with his buddies." Amusement bubbled up in his chest. "Silvio was kind of the black sheep of the family, carousing with his buddies, never having a steady job."

A note of sadness infiltrated his voice, and Mindy squeezed the hand clasping hers. "Does he still come and play?"

Danny smiled sadly, looking down at their clasped hands before answering her. "No. He died years ago, before I even finished school. He was old even when I was a kid." A thickness in his throat found its way into his words. "He actually taught me to play here. I always thought maybe…" He trailed off, surprised at the direction of his thoughts.

Their pace slowed, and he slipped his hand from hers, feeling slightly out of his element. She wouldn't let it go though. "You thought maybe what?"

He shook his head, walking slightly ahead of her. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

She felt strange as he pulled ahead of her, palm tingling from the absence of his touch. She scurried behind him, returning to his side. "Aren't we friends? Who else are you going to tell dark childhood secrets to? Tell me, tell me, tell me."

He shrugged, wishing he hadn't let the wistful little comment slip. "It's not a dark childhood secret." It was stupid really, and a little too revelatory, but he found the pathetic truth spilling from his lips. "I just thought by now I'd be coming here with my own kid or something." He shrugged off the vulnerability he felt, clearing his throat. "But, it is what it is."

Mindy was quiet, unable to articulate an appropriate response. Sure, she felt bad for Danny, but the own failure of a relationship was too fresh in her mind to feel really sorry for him on that front. She had her own doubts about ever having a family, and didn't feel like she was in the position to be very helpful. They continued to walk, coming upon a small group of people peering down at a pair of chess players in fascination.

Walking up to the edge of the little group, Mindy and Danny peeked over shoulders to see what had drawn such fascination. A little boy, around four years old, was squared off against a middle aged gentleman. The juxtaposition of the two was almost comical to Mindy. The child sat on his knees, popping up occasionally to reach across the board and dramatically shift the position of a piece, a little ball of vibrating energy coursing through him as he slammed his tiny palm down on the timer.

The kid was something of a prodigy, and after a few minutes his opponent hung his head in defeat, reaching across the painted table to shake his conqueror's hand. The child accepted the proffered hand, beaming up at a somewhat younger man beside him. "Daddy, can I play again?"

His father's eyes crinkled, surprised laughter rumbling in his chest. "Sure, son, if anyone wants to play you." He glanced around at the crowd, eyebrows raised in inquiry. "Any takers?"

Suddenly the very interested crowd of men found other things to look at, several throats were cleared, followed by an uncomfortable silence. The little boy's face fell, his shoulders slumping in disappointment. The picture tugged at Mindy's heart, and she couldn't just stand there.

She wedged a shoulder between two tweed jackets standing in front of her wiggling her way to the table. "Excuse me. Pardon me. Coming through."

Danny watched her in fascination as she sat down across from the child. Without a word she began to arrange the chess pieces on the table. A smile tugged at the corner of Danny's mouth. The child stared at Mindy in unabashed curiosity, his eyes wide pools, his little mouth dropped open involuntarily. Danny could relate.

Finally, the chess pieces set up, Mindy looked turned her attention to the child. "Hi, my name is Mindy. What's yours?"

The child immediately turned his attention to his father, unsure of what he should do. This was the first time any of his opponents had cared to ask his name, looking at him as something other than an exhibition of freakish ability.

His parent nodded in encouragement and the child's whole demeanor changed immediately, a bright little smile splitting across his face. "I'm Bobby, and this is my daddy. His name is Bobby too, but people call him Robert. Your coat is very green."

Mindy nodded. "Yes, it is. Are you ready to play?"

In answer, he reset the timer and made his first move, continuing to talk to her. "It's the same color as Kermit the frog. Green is my favorite color."

Mindy made her own move, slapping the timer beside her in satisfaction. Danny watched them silently, their match lasting much longer than the one with the previous opponent. So much so that the other spectators began to drift away until it was just the four of them. Bobby and Mindy completely immersed in their match and also a conversation about the muppets, Danny standing silently next Robert.

"People usually don't engage him like this. They're too busy trying to beat the prodigy, they don't really view him as a child." He laughed when Bobby excitedly popped up on his knees after a particularly good move, tapping the timer happily. "You two have kids?"

The question took Danny by surprise, and he attempted to stammer out a reply. "Us? We… um.. no. It's not really…. well, we're not… You see…" He trailed off, disappointed in his ability to define his relationship with Mindy. He couldn't say he'd never thought about what having kids with her would be like. They were both old enough to know that if they wanted children they'd have to do it soon, so he shouldn't have felt weird about picturing their future children within weeks of officially dating her, or feeling an acute sense of loss when he thought about it now. He sighed. "We're not together."

"Oh, sorry man." He didn't look sorry, in fact, the smile on his face broadened. "So, she's available? I mean, dating is hard in the city, man, especially when you're a single dad. So?"

Jealousy burned in his stomach, and his situation suddenly felt hopeless. Mindy would never forgive him when she found out about his deception. And this guy? He was just one in a city of thousands. Before he could respond, Robert's voice intruded on his thoughts. "So, _not _available then…"

Danny's mouth dropped open, feeling he should correct the man's assumption, but the words caught in his chest and the man nodded sympathetically. "Better figure it out soon, man. She doesn't look like someone who will wait around."

As if on cue, the child's voice rang out excitedly. "Checkmate!"

Mindy nodded, gracefully accepting defeat. "Ugh, I knew I shouldn't have put my King there."

The child giggled, stretching across the table to extend his hand to Mindy. She took it, the pudgy little one enveloped in her own. The smile on her face tugged at something deep within Danny, making him feel desperate.

Bobby excitedly rose to his feet in the chair as Mindy stood up. "Want a rematch?"

Robert stepped up, interrupting his overly excited son. "Wait a minute, buddy." He tapped his watch. "We have to go. You should thank the nice lady for playing with you."

The child pouted, sticking out his bottom lip, looking up at his father with puppy dog eyes. Robert was firm, not giving to the oft used ploy. Finally Bobby gave up, turning back to Mindy. "Thank you for playing with me."

He still looked disappointed, and Mindy bent down to him, resting a hand on his shoulder before pulling him in for a little hug. "We can play again the next time we're both here, okay?"

When she pulled away, Danny could see the utterly smitten look on the child's face. She was an easy person to love, and it was hard for him to believe that she doubted her ability to connect with children sometimes.

Bobby grinned, jumping down from his perch and capturing his father's hand. The two departed, Bobby occasionally glancing back at Mindy to wave. A small, almost sad smile, graced her features as she walked along beside Danny. He coughed slightly, attempting to clear away the drowning sensation in his chest. "Uh, so, I didn't know you played chess."

She laughed, slipping her arm through his once again. He sighed involuntarily, hoping she didn't realize how he craved her touch.

"I haven't played in forever. It was something I always did with my dad. I've never really enjoyed playing with anyone else."

He glanced at her, happy to finally see some of the sadness that had settled around her eyes was finally evaporating. "You could always play with me… If you get the urge or something. I mean, I'm no child prodigy, but I think I can hold my own. In fact, I'm not sure you'd be able to beat me."

Squeezing his arm, she sent him a sidelong glance. "Is that a challenge?"

"Maybe. You interested?"

"Maybe."


	5. Orecchini

**A/N: I hope the timeline here doesn't confuse anyone. See the end for notes, and as always. Thank you for reading, and feel free to leave comments of any kind. I love them.**

* * *

The right thing would have been to give them back to her. Maybe set them on the corner of her desk while she was out for lunch, perched atop a brief little post-it note. _Hey, found these while cleaning. - D._ It would have been easy, and it would have been true. It would have been the right thing to do. He couldn't.

He'd found them exactly one week after breaking things off with Sally, almost sucking them up into his vacuum cleaner, a split second of sparkle catching his eye being the only thing that saved them from the dust bin.

Everything else of hers had already been returned without ceremony, a shoe box with crystal perfume bottles and assorted beauty supplies she'd left scattered all over his bathroom counter. Nevermind that he felt like a piece of him was being ripped away when he handed over the box, or when she'd studiously avoided brushing her fingertips against his.

The covert trade off went down in the elevator, of all places. The office was neutral territory, but even Mindy didn't want their colleagues knowing everything that had transpired, now that it was a smoking heap of wreckage.

So, in the two minutes it took for the elevator to ascend to their floor, they'd wordlessly exchanged shoe boxes, their eyes barely meeting in the awkward silence. The things he'd left at her apartment were really of no consequence. A pair of socks. A two dollar tube of toothpaste. She could have easily just tossed them down the trash chute, and he never would have thought anything of it. Perhaps it was a testament to his fear that nothing important had ever made its way to her place.

The exchange had been difficult, and afterward they'd basically barricaded themselves in their respective offices for the rest of the day. Danny listening to Stevie Nicks on low between patients (because no one could know that _Dreams _had been his go to break up song since he'd found the album tucked in the back of his mother's closet when he was sixteen) and Mindy lying on the floor, trying in vain to find the perfect combination of sour straws and Peter anecdotes to make her feel better (unsurprisingly the ratio leaned rather heavily in the direction of the candy). They had looked like a couple of idiots, and it was a wonder no one had put two and two together. Those first couple weeks Danny was so filled with regret he could barely look at her, and Mindy just assumed he was ignoring her.

But things had gotten back to normal, or at least as close to it as they would ever get, and the morning he found the pair of crystal earrings nestled under his bed it should have been easy to return them to her. But it wasn't, at all. Sweeping the miscellany of bathroom paraphernalia coldly into a shoe box hadn't been that hard. But this was different. Not only was he fully aware of the mistake that had been made in letting her go, but these weren't creams or soaps she'd squirted out into her palm, perfumes she'd sprayed around her body. These were physical objects, ones that he'd seen nestled against the skin of her neck, threaded through her soft earlobes, so often imbued with the heat of her body. The very same heat he'd felt pressed up against him, sleeping quietly. One might even say they had once been a part of her.

Just picking the tiny objects up had proven more difficult than he could have ever anticipated, the weight of the cool crystal in his palm like an iron anchor pulling him to the bottom of the ocean.

But Danny wasn't an idiot. He'd known what the right thing to do was, so he'd pocketed them, trying valiantly to ignore how they burned at his side, every jostle of the train setting them to bumping against his thigh. He carried them around with him, approaching her multiple times a day, trying to garner the motivation to hand them back to her. He failed, miserably, retreating to his office at the end of each day to tuck them into his desk. Taking them home again would have been an even bigger mistake. They most certainly wouldn't have made the trip to the office a second time.

Funnily enough, his attempts to return the earrings deserved credit for their return to normal interaction. Each time he'd approached her, the ensuing conversation had been less awkward, their easy rapport slowly emerging once again, the vise in his chest easing open a millimeter at a time.

But things were different, yet again. After his total and complete miscalculation with the missed connection ad, he wasn't sure what he should do. He'd been waffling back and forth, some days, like the one at Washington Square Park, were wonderful, and he even contemplated never telling her about Andy, hoping against hope that she would just fall back in love with him and they'd live happily ever after. A precarious love built on a monumental lie that could come crashing down at any second. Those were the days he felt so desperate to have her once again that even that would be ok.

Other days he was struck with an overwhelming sense of obligation. Somehow the earrings had become tied to his duplicity, his inability to truly let her go. Each day, having failed to return them to her, he would return to his office, fish the little gems out of his pocket before placing them back in his box of personal possessions. A box of objects that in the past had served as a reminder for him, of the kind of man he should strive to be, the kind of man his father wasn't. A man of faith, family, and a set of rudimentary beliefs that could carry him through life. At first the jewelry nestled along side his rosary had served as a reminder that he was capable of loving someone, of being loved. They revealed in Danny a surprising spark of optimism. At first he truly believed he could clean up the mess he'd made with Mindy.

But he wasn't the kind of man filled to the brim with optimism. The certainty with which he knew the truth would destroy their friendship weighed on him heavily. Ironically it was her blinding faith in happy endings that he needed right now, and it's not like he could go to her for advice. Now the earrings mocked him, but he left them in the box, hoping that each day he had to fish them out of it, to look again upon the talismans of manhood, that he would do the right thing. Be a real man and confesses his sins to the person he loves, finally bear the consequences of his actions.

He sighed, rolling the two little crystals in his palm, focusing on them as they caught the light. So absorbed was he in his perusal, that he didn't immediately hear Peter glide into his office.

* * *

Peter had recently had a very enlightening conversation with his sister. Or rather, she had sat him down, and forced him to listen to what she deemed to be an enlightening talking-to. It had been a lecture really, about boundaries and adulthood. Honestly, he'd tuned most of it out, but what he did distinctly remember was her telling him to go easy on Danny.

"The guy thought we were dating, Peter. I mean, it was obviously casual, but he actually tried to gently break up with me. If it weren't so ridiculous, I would have felt sorry for him." Sally shook her head sadly. "I mean, I'm only in town for a little while anyway, and he's obviously hung up on someone else. I thought we were just having a little fun, you know, warm bodies colliding in the night."

Peter couldn't recall exactly what she'd said after this, having stuck his fingers in his ears, humming loudly. It wasn't until she whacked him on the back of the head that he resumed listening.

"God, Pete, can't you be an adult for just a second? I'm trying to tell you something here."

He squirmed in his chair, shooting her a clearly uncomfortable look. "I don't want to hear about my baby sister boning some guy I work with. 'Bodies colliding in the night?' Who do you think you are, Joan Collins?"

She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. "I'm not going to even touch the fact that _you_ were the one who used to secretly read mom's romance novels, or that we're only eleven months apart in age, or even that disgusting double standard you have when it comes to me getting laid." She took a deep breath, forcing herself to adopt a calmer tone of voice. "The depth of that guy's loneliness is worrisome, Peter. I don't know why, because he seems nice enough, but it doesn't seem like he has any friends, and he's heartbroken over some girl. So stop being a dick, and be a friend to him. Didn't they teach you anything in that fraternity besides how to shotgun a beer?"

Peter whined, scrunching his nose up, jutting his chin out. He felt especially childish, but he couldn't help himself. "Do I have to?"

She sighed. "Let's just say, if you don't at _least _invite him out to hang, all of New York City will learn about the time that Peter Prentice, M.D., self-proclaimed macho man, cannot watch _Steel Magnolias _without dissolving into a puddle of tears and devouring a tub of _Ben and Jerry's_."

He let out an angry huff. "THOSE WOMEN ARE AS DELICATE AS MAGNOLIAS BUT AS STRONG AS STEEL! YOU'D HAVE TO BE HEARTLESS NOT TO CRY!"

Rather than respond, Sally merely stared at him, tapping her foot impatiently, until finally all the fight drained out of him, and he dragged himself out of the chair. "Fine."

She smiled, bouncing over to him, threading her arms around his neck, making goo-goo eyes. She adopted an overly saccharine tone, bordering on sarcastic. "Thanks big bro, I loooooove you so much." She giggled, squeezing his cheeks between her hands, amused by the nonplussed expression on his face. "I always win. You should know that by now."

* * *

Peter stopped in his tracks, taking in the odd little scene before him. The mellow, some would say depressing, strains of _Stop Draggin' My Heart Around_ (come one Danny, dramatic much?) floated through the air. Danny himself staring wistfully at a pair of twinkling earrings, which most definitely could have only been one person's (they totally weren't Sally's style).

"Dude, what are you _doing?_" In typical Peter fashion, he swept his hand around the room theatrically. "What is this music? What are you staring at?"

Danny slammed the lid down on his box, earrings safely ensconced inside before he scrambled to disconnect his ipod from its dock. "It's.. it just.. came on. I don't know." His jaw worked in annoyance, stifling the stammering. "None of your business, that's what. What do you want anyway?"

Peter rolled his eyes, a gesture that would have given any well practiced thirteen year old girl a run for her money. "Danny, music doesn't just 'come on' your ipod, ok? It's not the radio. And by the way, I know you only keep like twelve songs on that thing, so, cut the crap."

Danny didn't answer, choosing instead to glare silently at his colleague. Peter had two choices. He could either feign ignorance, letting Danny get away with his usual 'everything's fine' bullshit, or poke around a little, see if his astute powers of deduction were on point or not.

The latter, being more entertaining, was the obvious route to take. "Fine. Whatever dude. I was just coming in here to offer you an olive branch of bro-hood or something. Things got a little heated with my sister and all." He leaned against the wall, striking a pose of carefree nonchalance. "So… let's hit some bars. Do some male bonding, maybe pull some hotties. What do you say?"

Danny's eyes darted back to the box on his desk, swallowing hard. Shaking his head, he searched for some excuse, something to get Peter out the door. His mind was full of other things though, and wading through them proved to be too difficult. "Uh… I can't really do that… not right now." His shoulders slumped. "But, I don't know, rain check or something?" He was genuinely surprised by Peter's invitation, and didn't want to completely push away yet another person in his life.

Patience was not something that Peter had ever been afflicted with. He let out a long groan and pushed away from the door. Resting his hands on the front of Danny's desk, he looked his colleague straight in the eye. "Just tell her you were a jackass, ok? That you made a mistake. You know how she is, always giving people second chances."

Danny's head snapped up, tugged out of his introspection by Peter's bluntly posed statements. "Sally?" If Peter had even one last shred of doubt as to whether or not those had been Mindy's earrings Danny had been staring at so wistfully, it would have been totally eradicated by the utter tone of disbelief in that one word.

"Not Sally, you idiot. Tell Mindy you were a jackass and that you want her back."

Danny shook his head. "Look, Pete, you don't have all the facts, ok. It's not that simple." He bit his bottom lip, contemplating how much to reveal. "And… well, you don't have any idea how much of a jackass I've been, and at this point I would probably be on my third or even fourth chance." He cleared his throat, suddenly very uncomfortable with being this candid, but he still felt he needed to say one more thing. "But I am working on it, alright? I just need some time."

Peter shrugged, heading back to the door. He stopped briefly before exiting. "Don't take too long, she's not the kind of person to spin her wheels."

Danny just nodded, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to answer. Peter finally left, shaking his head as he made his way to the elevator. Sally had only said he had to try. She hadn't mentioned anything about him being successful. It wasn't his fault that Danny didn't respond to his invite. Maybe later, after this whole Mindy thing was put to bed, he'd try again, just for the sake of keeping his word. He almost dreaded it. Befriending Danny looked like it would be a tiresome and thankless task, better suited to someone much more persistent.

* * *

**A/N: I liked how in the finale, Peter implied that he'd caught Danny staring wistfully at Mindy's earrings. Also, I wanted to address Danny's breakup with Sally, but I didn't want to spend a whole lot of time with it. I think the next chapter should get back to a scene from the montage. Thanks for reading, again! :D**


	6. i pendolari

**A/N: Transitional Chapter to get to the Queensboro bridge :D I hope you like it. As always, please feel free to leave reviews or comments however you like.**

To some, the daily routine of finding a seat (or not finding one, as is usually the case) on the subway each evening, half past five, picking up his newspaper and studiously ignoring his fellow commuters would seem like a lonely and monotonous task. For years, Danny had enjoyed his daily commute, finding a certain peace of mind in the solitude of being in a place where no one is interested in talking to you. Until Mindy came along, of course.

It wasn't his choice to become 'commute buddies,' as she'd so aptly named them. Just like it wasn't his choice to become friends. But, as with so many things involving Mindy, what he chose didn't really matter. Which he supposed was a good thing, since apparently he made awful choices when given the opportunity, at least in regard to her.

So, in the beginning he'd dallied at the newspaper stand each evening, hoping he'd miss the train she got on. For some reason she thought it was unreasonable to see an acquaintance on the train without sidling up next to the person, and rattling off inanities in said person's ear. Ironically, stalling as he made his way home was one of the things that contributed to their frequently shared commutes. She was always running late.

Something had changed though. In the years since their first train ride, the dread that Danny felt in his chest when he saw her neon array of clothing peek through the crowd had disappeared. It had been replaced by a flutter of anticipation followed quickly by relief as he saw her slip through the doors.

He'd long since stopped avoiding her, or even leaving their shared ride to chance. He waited for her these days. He didn't even have to hide it, to pretend that he'd just randomly been waiting in the lobby when she descended in the elevator, or that he happened to get done with this paperwork at the same time she did. They were friends. It was a given that they walk to the subway together, chatting amiably about patients or Peter's latest schemes, unexpectedly brushing knuckles as their arms swung to and fro.

It had become routine for Danny to lean casually just inside her door, his shoulder resting on the jamb as she clicked away at the keys in front of her. He liked padding silently up to the entrance of her office, catching her unaware, concentration crinkling her nose as her glasses slipped down further. Moments like these, the love flooded his chest, making it hard to breathe.

Today was the same as every other day this week. Danny stood there waiting, his messenger bag slung over his shoulder, poised ready to point at his watch when she looked up. Faint hope curled in his limbs when she flashed her pearly whites at him, a glittery optimism in her eyes as she tore them away from the computer screen.

But her face fell for a second when she saw him in the doorway, disappointment coloring her features. "Oh, Danny. I should have told you earlier. I have somewhere to go after work. You didn't have to wait on me." Rising from the desk, she collected her coat and handbag, brushing past him as she strolled into the lobby.

He pushed away from the door frame, nervously tucking his sweaty hands into his pockets. He knew he should just nod and be on his way home, but something had him nailed to the spot, his heart pounding in his chest. "Hot date?" He'd tried to keep the words inside, and instead of sounding nonchalant, they came out half strangled. He quickly cleared his throat to cover his embarrassment. One corner of his mouth twitched up in a halfhearted smile. "Who's the lucky guy?"

Turning, she gave him a surprised glance, eyebrows raised. "No date, Danny." Something in the way she said his name, the heavy silence between them, neither person daring to break it, propelled him after her. She smiled at his pursuit as she continued to the elevator. "My realtor emailed me. There's a place out in Queens he wants me to look at. Looks promising."

The elevator doors closed in front of them. The temporary relief over her non-date was immediately replaced by the thought of her looking to move yet again.

"Realtor?"

"Yeah. Doing it on my own didn't really work last time."

"I thought you decided to stay where you are. After…" A hot flush crept up his neck, suddenly accosted by the memory of his bungled attempt to get her back. "I mean. I thought you liked where you lived?"

She sighed, brushing the hair from her face before turning slightly to glance at him from the corner of her eye. "I do… but, I mean. I don't own it, Danny. It's just… I should just settle into my life already. I'm not some twenty-two year old grad student." She bit her bottom lip, afraid that she was about to reveal too much. "Honestly, I've always had this stupid idea that I was waiting for my adult life to begin. That things were just in flux until I met the right person, and then we could do those big adult things together."

She looked away from him, focusing on the little lights above them, lighting up one by one as they descended. Clearing her throat she tried to regain the normal light atmosphere. "Or even better, meet some billionaire mogul who'll sweep me off my feet and deposit me in his penthouse apartment on the Upper East Side. But that's not gonna happen." She sighed grandiosely. "I'm gonna be forty, Danny."

He snorted, the anxiety in his chest temporarily dissipating. "In like ten years, Min." His eyes sparkled, suddenly in a generous mood.

She grinned, nudging him with her shoulder. "More like fifteen, but thanks."

Finally the ground floor arrived, a familiar little ding sounding over head. They stepped out into the lobby, Mindy ahead of Danny, her hand on the double doors leading out to the street. She paused, biting her bottom lip in uncertainty. "Do you, uh…. maybe want to help me with this. Since you know so much about owning property, and escrow and loans and all those headache inducing banker words?"

He nodded slowly. "Sure, but only if you really-"

She cut him off, yanking him by the arm as she pulled him after her. "Great. Here are the photos he emailed me." She whipped out her phone, excitedly thumbing through the slideshow. "Doesn't it look great? And, you'll like this part, all of the windows match and there's a working elevator and totally up to code fire escapes."

He peered down at the phone, squinting slightly without the aid of his reading glasses. "Yeah, I guess that looks alright, I mean, for Queens and all. What neighborhood is that even in?"

"Jackson Heights, and the place looks really nice." She tucked her phone away, leaning out in the street to hail a cab.

"What are you doing? We can just take the F-line out to Queens, Mindy. It's not that big of a deal, and you'd have to get used to it anyway if you lived out there." His voice got soft. The time he had with her on the subway was something of a strange intimacy that he would regret losing. Just as he'd relished the stranger-enforced solitude before he'd met her, now he felt the same about the little bubble that encircled them when they were on the train.

Unaware of the suddenly introspective look that flashed across Danny's face, Mindy waved frantically at an approaching cab, doing a little victory hop as it slowed. "Look, I'm just excited and don't want to wait, alright. I'm sure this'll be quicker." She slid into the waiting vehicle before he could reply.

He was still frozen by the feeling that he was losing her again, the same feeling that made him do incredibly stupid things. She popped her head out, slightly concerned. "Coming or not? I won't even make you split the fair."

It was the smile that did it, completely undid him as it had so many times before. Of course he was coming. He slid into the cab beside her, noting the eagerness in her voice as she rattled off the address. The right thing would be to go and be supportive, help her find out everything she needed to know to make an informed decision. The place looked nice, and he'd heard mostly good things about that particular area.

He focused his attention on the scenery quickly whipping by. Trying not to think about the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, the unreasonable anxiety in his chest. He felt delicate fingers on his arm, gripping at the muscles beneath the cotton of his shirt. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Thanks, Danny. I feel much better about this with you tagging along."

He steeled himself, hoping he could just look at things through her eager eyes, and try to be content in the fact that if she moved there, he would still see her at work at the very least. It would have to be enough. It wouldn't be enough.

It was time for him to stop being passive about all of this. He needed to show her how things could really be between them, and he needed to find the courage to tell her the truth. He swallowed. One thing at a time, Castellano.


	7. Tenerezze

**A/N: The NEXT chapter will be the scene at the bridge (this fic, is walking all over me :P) Please feel free to leave comments or suggestions. I love hearing what you have to say, and really appreciate feedback.**

The trip out to Queens took longer than expected. They had the unfortunate luck of getting stuck in evening rush hour traffic, almost coming to a complete halt as they approached the Queensboro bridge. Mindy's head lolled against his shoulder, fatigue pulling at her eyelids as the taxi idled.

Danny nudged her. Instinctively, she turned her face into his shoulder, yawning dramatically. He nudged her again. He was rewarded with an annoyed glare as she pulled away from him. "What is so important that I can't nap?"

He turned his gaze back to the window, gesturing to the lattice of girders and trusses ahead of them. "It's another one of those 'Romantic Monuments' that you've been going on about lately."

Her eyebrows knitted as the cab accelerated, the traffic finally picking up again. "Romantic monument? The Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge?"

Danny's lip curled up in disgust. "Don't let any of your new neighbors hear you call it that."

"What? That's what the sign says, Danny." She gestured emphatically at the green and white street sign, a look of righteous indignation on her face.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "You're such a bostonian sometimes, Min. No self respecting new yorker, especially one that lives in Queens, would call it that. It's the 59th street bridge. Always has been, always will be. At the very least, just call it the Queensboro bridge."

"Fine, weirdo." She leaned back against the slick vinyl once again, shifting toward him. "So, what's this about it being a 'romantic monument'?" Her fingers traced air quotes in front of his face, her voice taking on it's typically thick Staten accent when she did her Danny Castellano impression.

He leaned back to get a better view of her face. "Are you kidding me? Dr. Mindy Lahiri, self proclaimed romantic film aficionado, doesn't recall this being in a completely classic romantic comedy?"

She frowned, a little wrinkle appearing on the smooth skin between her eyebrows, her bottom lip unconsciously getting drawn in between her teeth as she sifted through her memory. Pulling her gaze away from him, she glanced out the window once again, peering out across the east river as huge metal trusses zipped by her line of vision. "You're messing with me."

"Seriously? Come one, _Manhattan_… doesn't ring any bells?"

"Hmm.. sounds vaguely familiar, but I hardly trust your judgement when it comes to movies being romantic. You totally tricked me into watching _The Last of the Mohicans_."

He shook his head in disbelief. "But, this one is a Woody Allen movie. The guy like _does_ romantic comedy."

Her eyes widened. "Woody Allen? No thanks, too talky, and if I'm not mistaken, it's probably in black and white, right?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but was speechless. She nodded, continuing on her tirade. "Black and white movies give me a headache. How am I supposed to draw fashion inspiration from a film when I can't even tell if the characters know how to create an attractive color pallette?"

He shrugged. "Well, I just thought maybe you'd seen the _iconic_ scene where they sit and look out over the East River, the Queensboro bridge _prominently _in the background."

"Do they embrace passionately? Declare their love for one another, and make out while the sun sets?"

"What? No. They talk about… stuff...and sit… Look, I know it doesn't sound romantic, but…" He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. This conversation hadn't gone where he'd expected. "It's not the end of the movie, they're just talking and walking. They kind of rub each other the wrong way at first."

She tapped her index finger on her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, let me guess, Woody Allen plays the neurotic main character, going after some totally out of his league leading lady, while possibly dating some other totally out of his league girl, emphasis on 'girl' because she's probably just a baby?"

"So you _have _seen it?"

"Ew, no, I was just guessing." She sighed dramatically. "But thanks for adding yet another place to my list of romantically tainted locations."

He snorted. "How can it be tainted if you've never seen the film?"

"Oh, please, like I'm not going to go straight home and watch it now. I can't let it be said that Daniel Castellano, noted grump, knows more about romantic movies than I do." In spite of her previous melancholic tone, she seemed to be enjoying their conversation, a pleased smile playing at the corners of her lips, already making itself known in her eyes.

Danny and Mindy's focus had once again drawn inward, that little bubble of intimacy once again enveloping them. So much was their focus on each other that neither of them noticed the cab coming to a halt, or the impatient cabbie drumming his fingers along the steering wheel as he waited for them to finish their pointless conversation.

Not that he overly cared much about letting the meter run while the obviously besotted pair in his backseat chatted, but it was getting late, and his shift was almost up. He cleared his throat, eyeing the pair in the rear-view mirror. "This is it."

Mindy snatched her purse up, digging through it fruitlessly. Danny wordlessly withdrew his wallet, handing the driver a wad of cash before reaching over to still Mindy's movements. He caught her hand, dragging her out of the cab, while she protested. "I said I would get it, Danny."

He nodded as they walked down the sidewalk. "I know, and you can pay me back as soon as you find your cash. Did you really want to sit there for fifteen minutes with the meter running?"

"How chivalrous of you." Mindy didn't quite infuse the words with the sarcasm she'd intended. She kind of liked the way Danny just took care of things sometimes. It wasn't exactly a he-man thing, but rather just his sense of what should be done. Plus, it's not like he didn't owe her money anyway. He'd never chipped in for his part of Jamie and Lucy's wedding present, or for his part of the building wide christmas presents she'd so craftily put together last year. So yeah, he could totally afford to pay a cab fare now and again.

They slowed, shortly reaching the building that matched the address she'd been given. The surrounding neighborhood was nice, if not Manhattan-like. She should have expected as much, she'd known she was leaving Manhattan, but she was still a little disappointed. She checked the time on her phone, making sure she wasn't too late to meet the realtor.

Danny let out an appreciative whistle, rocking back on his heels as he surveyed the building. "Are you sure you can afford this place? I think this is the historic district, Min."

They stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing up at the architecture before them, each wondering if this was it. Mindy wondering if she was really going to give up her dream of living in Manhattan, and Danny wondering if he could really let her slip even farther away.

The silence was broken by a clear deep voice calling out to them. "Dr. Lahiri?" They both turned toward its source, taking in a tall attractive man wearing slacks and a nice jacket. He somehow perfectly struck the balance between casual and professional, his straight white smile spreading quickly across his face as he extended his hand to Mindy. "Dalton Andrews, at your service." The man looked like an advertisement for cologne, his perfectly quaffed blonde hair, surprising against his tan skin.

Danny instantly felt his hackles rise, a swift kick of jealousy in his chest as the realtor gave Mindy a surreptitious yet appreciative once-over. Danny found himself moving between them as soon as their hands disconnected, his own shooting out in an almost aggressive offer. He felt like a dog marking his territory, and was briefly ashamed, but he couldn't stop. "Dr. Castellano, nice to meet you."

He ignored Mindy's raised eyebrow as they followed Dalton into the building, hoping she'd quickly become distracted by the beautiful marble interior of the lobby. The realtor's smooth deep voice grated on Danny's eardrums, and he was hard pressed to actually pay attention.

Mindy was right about there being an elevator, but it was tiny, barely accommodating the three of them. He found himself pressed up against her, one knee pushed against the taut fabric of her skirt as she pressed back into him, politely making room for the other man. Still Dalton droned on, and Danny couldn't hear a word of it over the dull roar in his ears, the blood whooshing through his veins with each beat of his heart. He fought the urge to trail his fingertips along the exposed skin at her neck, to place his lips on her slightly fluttering pulse.

He felt momentarily transported, back to another time when being so close in an elevator carried possibilities far more interesting that what he was currently presented with. Now he merely struggled to concentrate on the conversation before him. Not that it mattered, the pair was completely ignoring him.

"There's a very low crime rate in this neighborhood. Your neighbors in the building would be all long term tenants or owners. You would have to meet with the co-op board, but it's really just a formality when it comes to someone actually buying a place. The price alone usually weeds out unsavory characters." He glanced at Danny. "Is this your… husband?"

Before she could answer, the tiny elevator's doors slid open, and the three of them spilled out into the hallway, Dalton striding purposefully ahead. Danny slipped his hand in hers, tucking it into the crook of his arm as he leaned close to her ear, whispering, "It might be better if he thinks you're married."

She squinted, almost able to see the logic in it. She couldn't find the words to agree though, and just nodded before swallowing the lump in her throat. Somehow, without much warning, she'd fallen into a fantasy that she'd had not so long ago. A recurring dream suddenly come to life. It was deeply unsettling, and her heart beat erratically in her chest.

Dalton had reached his intended destination, glancing over his shoulder at the couple before slipping the key into the door. Once in the apartment he proudly gestured to the empty expanse. "Original hardwood floors, recently updated kitchen, all new appliances, quaint little dining alcove to the left here." He gestured to an empty corner with an antique looking chandelier hanging over it. "And, if you buy the place you can pretty much make any changes you like, within reason of course."

Mindy pulled Danny into the modern looking kitchen, running her fingers of her unoccupied hand over the obviously new stainless steel appliances. She wasn't much for cooking, and could honestly care less about the kitchen, other than the way it looked when people walked through the apartment, but unbidden images of Danny flipping pancakes at the range popped into her mind. Her stomach dropped when she realized he probably wouldn't get out this way very often.

The realtor's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "Would you like to see the bedrooms?"

She released the death grip she had on Danny's hand, shaking off the longing wrapping itself around her. She eagerly skipped across the apartment, looking over her shoulder at him as she slipped through the doorway. "You coming, _darling_?"

He knew it was a charade, but the endearment on her lips sent a shiver of pleasure through him, and even though he felt weak doing it, he couldn't help but bask in the illusion. He snuck up behind her, laying his hands lightly on her waist he pulled her to him. "It's nice, hon. East facing windows, perfect for waking up super early. I know how you _love _that."

She twisted in his embrace, frowning up at him. Whether it was for his presumptuous physicality or for pointing out something that was a definite drawback for her, he couldn't tell. "Curtains aren't that expensive, _sweetie_." Her hand slid up his neck, settling on his cheek before giving it a pat, slightly more forceful than necessary. He was looking entirely too smug for her liking.

She pulled away, taking interest in the closet along the south wall. She poked her head in, a very real sense of disappointment flooding her as she surveyed the tiny space. She felt Danny's heat at her back again. "Oh, Min, can you even fit your shoe collection in here?"

She spun around to glare at him, her chest bumping up against his as she extracted herself from the closet. She smiled at him broadly. "Well, Daniel, there's a second bedroom I can pretty much do anything I want with, right?"

He shrugged, following her as Dalton led them into the second bedroom. It was considerably smaller than the master bedroom, and could conceivably be converted into a walk in closet. Although, Danny thought it had probably once been a nursery, for some other young couple. He watched Mindy pacing around the space, and it was easy to imagine her doing the same thing at two in the morning, some night in the future, rocking a fussy child, maybe singing him to sleep. The fictional image engendered very real pain in his chest, and he couldn't resist seeing how she reacted to it as well. "Sure, until we decide to have a kid."

Her head snapped back around to him at a speed fast enough to cause whiplash. Her eyes were wide, and a flush crept slowly up her neck. Danny regretted taking the game to this place, it wasn't fair, but he derived a twisted pleasure from her reaction. There was sadness there, but it only thinly veiled the longing he saw in her gaze.

She swallowed hard, and with concerted effort drew her stare away from Danny, returning her attention to Dalton. "So, I think I've seen enough. I'll have to talk to my accountant and call you tomorrow, is that ok?"

Danny couldn't ignore the disappointment tinging her voice, and he cursed himself for putting it there. It took everything he had not to rush to her side and pull her into his arms. He wanted to tell her everything, then and there, beg her to forgive him. The urge to kiss her and wick away all the sadness was a physical thing, an ache that pulsed in his limbs. His hand involuntarily rose, reaching for her.

Dalton interrupted his train of thought. "That's fine, but I must tell you, there's a lot of interest in this property. You should probably make a rapid decision."

Mindy nodded, looking past Danny to the door, needing to get out of the empty apartment. "Yeah, I'll call you tomorrow." She ignored the two men standing before her and left the bedroom, crossing the echoing living area swiftly. The door shut behind her before Danny could even come unglued from his spot.

Dalton clicked his tongue. "Your wife doesn't seem pleased with this place, but I assure you, it matches all the criteria she emailed me, and she's unlikely to find another place in her price range any time soon."

There was a slightly disappointed tone in the young man's voice, and Danny almost felt sorry for him. The kid was probably lamenting the fat commission he felt slipping through his fingers. "It's not the place. She's a little out of sorts with me. I'm sure she'll call you tomorrow with good news."

Without further comment, Danny tucked his hands in his pockets and followed Mindy's exit path, hoping she wouldn't be too annoyed with him we he made it down to the street.


	8. Il Ponte

**A/N: and finally they reach the bridge. :D I really like this chapter, like, like-like it. You know? Please feel free to leave reviews/comments/suggestions. I love hearing your feedback and find it really helpful.**

When Danny emerged from the building he expected Mindy to be waiting for him, maybe tapping her foot in irritation as she decided whether or not to be mad at him. But she wasn't waiting. Nothing but empty pavement greeted him, cars zipping by without a care in the world. Panic bubbled up in Danny's chest, suddenly realizing maybe his remarks in the apartment had been more cutting than he'd thought.

It was only after a quick one hundred and eighty degree survey of the street and sidewalk that he caught her retreating figure, arms crossed against the surprisingly windy day. He called out to her, but the wind caught his words, whipping away his apology before it could reach her ears. At least that's what he told himself when she continued to march forward.

He thought he should let her go, stop hurting her in this way. She'd probably hail a cab and spend the entire ride back to her apartment railing against him, ready to totally move on, and this time he would let her. It would certainly be best for everyone involved.

That's what he told himself. His feet had other plans, turning in her direction, trotting, no, running after her. She turned, the sound of his hard soled shoes slapping against the pavement alerting her to his quick advance.

Without looking at him she said, "You really shouldn't come up behind a woman like that. You could get maced."

He slowed, his strides matching hers. "Yeah? Well, maybe I deserve it."

She stopped, looking up at him through her lashes, her expression still set in a hard frown. "Maybe you do. Too bad I forgot mine."

Danny swallowed, trying to think of something to say, some sort of apology wherein he didn't spill his guts completely, but nothing came, and he just gaped at her, open mouthed like a fish suffocating on dry land. She rolled her eyes at him and he snapped out of it. "I'm sorry. I just... I miss you, ok?"

Her anger morphed into confusion, which for the time being was good enough for Danny. "What? You see me every day, we ride the subway together, you call me and we watch horror flicks over the phone. How can you miss me?"

Feeling a nervous energy begin to course through him, he shrugged, shoving his fidgeting hands in his pockets once more. He watched the pavement beneath his feet as they continued to walk. "I mean, I _would_ miss you. You know, if you were so far away?" He tilted his head back toward the building they'd both exited. He stared at her helplessly as the last statement came out in the tone of a question.

He sighed when she didn't respond. "It's a nice place, Min. Perfect for you. You should…" He couldn't finish the thought, trailing off into awkward silence. He cleared his throat, this wasn't going well. He was so often cursed with the inability to express himself verbally when it came to her. "I mean, I wouldn't want you to, but that's… selfish I guess… Just because I would miss you."

"I miss you, too."

The words were quiet and he almost didn't hear them, but the faint sound set his heart to beating wildly, and he felt tension in his arms, springs coiled tightly, a need to wrap them around her. "Yeah?"

He wasn't the only one with an ache in his throat, a mist of tears at the back of his eyes. She still didn't look at him, and he heard her take a deep breath. "I mean, I _would_ miss you. If I lived all the way out here, the commute would be annoying. It's not like I'm gonna go buy a bicycle and ride across the bridge every morning, and I definitely wouldn't do it at night." She stopped, catching his arm with her hand, forcefully turning him to face her. "You have to stop doing that, though."

"What?"

"When you're upset about something-"

He cut her off. "I'm not upset, Mindy, I just-"

"Shut up and let me finish. _When you're upset..._" She paused, eyeing him to make sure he was done talking. "... rather than just saying what you're thinking, you get mean. And we're friends, so you know exactly what to say to make it hurt." She stepped off the curb, leaning out into the street, waving her arms to get a taxi's attention. "But I know that deep down you're a good person, so I forgive you. You're welcome."

He was rendered speechless. She thought it was just because he didn't want her to move. She hadn't seen him searching her face for any sign that she'd wanted those things he been talking about. She didn't know that he'd found the longing in her eyes. He knew he could get her back, but it had to be on her terms. It was impossible to forget his totally botched attempt to undo his impulsive breakup.

She laughed when one flew right by. "Say what you will about my brightly colored wardrobe, but it's so hard to get a cab when I'm dressed more conservatively." She gestured to the leather jacket and dark blue skirt. "People don't really notice me when I'm wearing such quiet colors."

"I notice you." Danny would have continued, describing the way light glinted in her eyes when he made her laugh, and how it was slightly different than when she was giggling over some inappropriate email Peter had sent her, or when she fake laughed at a patient's joke. He would have told her that he liked her best in her light blue scrubs, because they made him think of late nights shoved together in the doctor's lounge, walking her home under yellowish streetlamps, her skin glowing in a way he'd never seen anywhere else. All those things were on the tip of his tongue, but at that moment a bright yellow taxi ground to a halt in front of them, its brakes squeaking ever so slightly. So, instead of saying everything that had been rolling around in his head for months, he reached forward, opening the door for her like the gentleman he wasn't. "After you."

She was looking at him strangely, a searching expression settling across her features, the little wrinkle appearing once again between her brows, but she said nothing. Unable to pull her gaze away from him as he settled in next to her, his body heat pressing up against her thigh as he leaned forward to give the cabbie their destination. She almost didn't hear what he was saying. Almost.

"Wait. What? Just give him my address. I want this day to be over."

"Min, before you decide one way or another about living in Queens, I think you should at least walk the bridge once. Who knows, maybe you'll develop a fondness for it, get up extra early in the morning so you can walk to work."

"Yeah, sure Danny, and while I'm at it maybe I'll donate all my Chanel bags to charity. Are you high?"

"The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always the city seen for the first time, in its first wild promise of all the mystery and the beauty in the world."

"Whoa, little Shakespeare, jeez. Fine, I'll walk the bridge with you. How can you say stuff like that, but later be a hot mess of 'ums' and 'uhs'?"

He chuckled at the admiration in her voice. "Mindy, that's a quote from _The Great Gatsby._"

"I don't remember Leo saying that."

"From the book…. er, well I don't know, maybe it _was _in the movie. I didn't actually watch it."

She shifted, melancholy outlook on life momentarily forgotten. Her hands found their way to his arm, clutching dramatically as she uttered his name. "Danny, Danny, Danny. You have to watch it. It's heartbreaking, and Leo looks so good, and Daisy, oh my god, those flapper dresses are to die for."

He nodded, settling in for a carefully composed Mindy-Lahiri-persuasive speech, pretending for her benefit that he even needed convincing. It was hard to believe that once he'd wished she would be quiet. Now the sound of her high pitched excitement was like music tinkling on his ears.

* * *

She talked all the way to the bridge, continuing to do so even as Danny paid the driver, pausing only to make note of his actions. "You really have to stop doing that, you're making me look like a gold digger."

He smiled at the thought, finding it impossible to imagine Mindy whiling away her days spending someone else's money, leisurely pursuits being the only thing that concerned her. Yeah right. As much as she harped on about finding a sugar daddy, there was no way in hell she'd settle in for a life like that. "What is it they say? Dress for the job you want? So what if you look like a gold digger."

She whacked him, hard. "Shut up." He could hear mirth in her voice for the first time all day, and, a crooked smile on her face matching his own.

By some unspoken agreement they walked the bridge silently, Danny's hand resting gently on her lower back, protectively angling himself in front of her when an overenthusiastic biker got a little too close. It was still windy, even more so out over the river, Mindy's hair occasionally whipped out in front of his face, trailing along his skin. Even out in the middle of the East River, smog from the traffic tainting the air around them, Danny could still discern the floral notes of her shampoo.

When they reached the halfway point she stopped and fished her phone from her purse once more to snap a picture. A satisfied little smirk appeared on her face as she posted it. She'd never seen Manhattan from this angle, the city skyline spread out before her like an intricate and endless mural.

Thinking she was done, Danny continued forward, stopping awkwardly when the hand hooked in his elbow tugged at him. His breath hitched in his chest when she pulled him closer, wrapping her arm around his shoulders to bring his face down to hers. He could feel her breath along his skin, see each individual eyelash fanned out against her cheek when she blinked. His lips parted, anticipating the soft feel of hers, remembering all those times she'd greedily captured his lips with her own.

"Quit looking at me like that and smile Danny. I know you know how to take a selfie."

He snapped out of his little fantasy, noticing her arm extended out in front of them, holding her phone at the perfect angle to capture them both. Tamping down the urge to press his lips to the smooth skin so near him, he turned slightly, facing her phone. The stubble on his jaw grazed against her as he grinned. A little giggle escaped her before she captured the shot, reminding him of how unbelievably ticklish she was, his stubble so often the culprit.

He sighed as she pulled away, feeling slightly triumphant when she slipped her hand down to his, choosing to walk hand in hand the rest of the way. He thought maybe one day he'd get used to the feel of her hand clasped in his, that one day he would be so inured to the sensation, having felt it on a daily basis for years, that it wouldn't set giddy butterflies free in his chest, or make him feel like there were little wings attached to his ankles, lifting him up.

They approached the Manhattan side of the bridge slowly, Danny himself loathing the idea of breaking apart once the magic of the bridge dissipated. A thought struck him. "Do you want to see the place where they shot that scene in _Manhattan_? It's just a little ways more after we get off the bridge."

She had been tired earlier, feet aching, the pressure of a sinus headache building behind her eyelids, but somewhere along the way it had all disappeared, giving way to a warm feeling of contentment. She squeezed his hand, nodding rather than voicing her agreement. There were too many emotions near the surface for her voice to work properly. He was so attentive, she could almost fool herself into thinking he'd never walked away from her.

Again, they were quiet, Mindy silently taking in the landscape around her. Manhattan really was beautiful in the spring, flowers blooming on the trees lining the sidewalks, the sun glinting off the little wavelets on the river. The breeze catching Danny's slightly too long hair as it brushed across his forehead.

She was still staring at him when his footsteps slowed, turning her to look out across the river, a picture perfect view of the massive bridge filled her vision. It was hard for her to fathom some black and white movie, filled to the brim with neurotic chatter, displacing this particular memory when she thought of this place.

Turning, she found that Danny wasn't sharing her admiration of the view, but rather staring down at her. He took both of her hands in his. "I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to bring up that stuff back there."

Her heart was in her throat. Once before Danny had tried to pull her back to him, but he'd gone about it all wrong, sneaking up on her, acting like a jealous idiot. This was different, and even though she'd been so adamant about her making her own decision, she wouldn't mind if he tried again. Here and now. If he apologized now, said he wanted her, she could believe it.

He swallowed, losing his way with words, he rushed onward. "It's just.. I saw you in that little room, pacing back and forth, and I couldn't help but think about it. I could see it."

She sighed, leaning forward to rest her head on his chest as her arms threaded around his waist. "I used to think about it… before…" She paused, savoring the feeling of his arms tentatively curling around her. "Especially when I'd wake up before you in the morning."

He laughed, the vibration sinking into her own chest. "You never woke up before me."

"Yes, I did, Castellano. I just didn't get up." She pulled back from him, feeling a slight chill when parted from his warmth "You looked so different when you were sleeping, like a cute little preschooler, not a care in the world. Sometimes you would smile, and it would frustrate me because I couldn't figure out what you were dreaming about."

Mindy didn't know what it meant, that they could talk like this about that glowing time before everything went down the drain. She felt near tears again, but it wasn't sad desperation that weighed her down, just nostalgia for something she'd so briefly had.

"Mindy?" Her name on his lips, his voice breaking slightly on the last syllable, so full of questions, ones she knew he needed to ask. She wasn't ready though.

He took a deep breath, ready to let them spill forth, but she backed away further, exercising willpower she hadn't even known she possessed. "I'm not saying no, Danny, but can we just do this for a little while longer." She swallowed, hoping his reaction to this request to take things slow would be better than the time before. "I like spending time with you, like this. It's different. We've never really done this."

He nodded, turning to grip the iron fence in front of him. Relief flooded his limbs. She was choosing him, and he felt like the world's biggest tool for trying to be someone else for her. It was just so hard for him to believe that she could see all of him and still want it. There was fear still in his chest, but this time it was entirely of his own making. Soon enough he would find out if she could really accept him and everything he'd done.

They stepped away from the fence line, making their way to the subway. He shook off the anxiety pervading him. "So, do you want to hang out tonight? We could watch the movie, let you really see if the bridge needs to be added to your 'romantic monuments' list."

Her arm slipped through his, this time leaning rather heavily against him. She wrinkled her nose at the prospect. "I think I'd rather watch _Maid in Manhattan_ than _Manhattan_. Besides, the 59th street bridge is already on the list… for other reasons."

Danny felt happy for the first time in months, only one cloud still hovering over him. He pushed it away, favoring the sunshine falling on him at the moment. The rain could wait.


	9. si può cambiare

**A/N: I wasn't going to post this chapter, since not a lot happens, and a lot of time is spent on side characters for such a comparatively short update, buuuut I liked it anyway. It's more of a transitional chapter. Let me know what you think, comments and reviews are always appreciated (and read with relish multiple times :P)**

Mindy sashayed through her office door, sweeping her arms to emphasize her entrance. Betsy was the only person to even glance in her direction, eyes wide in her usual doe-like state. Peter was still engrossed in conversation with a less than enthused Danny, gesturing wildly with his hands, Jeremy ignoring the both of them as he flipped through paperwork. She cleared her throat. "Ahem!"

Jeremy was the first to look up, tamping down the urge to roll his eyes, he sighed deeply. "Mindy, you obviously have an announcement, like every other day of the week. Can we forgo the pageantry and just get on with it?"

She sauntered over to the secretary's desk, smoothing down the front of her blouse as she walked. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just speak to me like i'm some charwoman at a British boarding school, and try to keep this civil." She cleared her throat again, turning to face Peter and Danny. "I do have an announcement."

Danny's head popped up, his eyes a little wider than normal, the ghost of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. She tried not to let it set her stomach fluttering, but resistance was futile.

"Shocking." Voice thick with sarcasm, Jeremy picked up the file he'd been thumbing through and headed back to his office.

"You need to hear this." She called out, irritated. He paused momentarily to cast her a long sufferingly look.

Morgan rolled out of phlebotomy, the castors on his chair squeaking incessantly as he glided over to Mindy, he put his hand on her forearm and looked up at her with big overly affectionate eyes. "Any luck on the manhunt front?" He slanted his eyes in the direction of the other partners, giving Mindy a conspiratorial wink. What the hell was that about?

Her mouth fell open, and she was about to tell Morgan to mind his own business, but Jeremy interrupted her. "I have more important things to do than listen to your dating woes, Mindy. Just update me in you bi-daily intra-office email newsletter." He shut his office door without waiting for a response.

"Ugh, rude. It's not about my love life. That's..." She fought the urge to smile, not wanting to give anyone in this stupid office any ideas. "... not, uh.. moving on." Giving up on having the full attention of her fellow partners she settled for the rapt attention of Morgan at her side, and the bored curiosity of Peter, trying not to think about the soft look on Danny's face as he watched her. With some effort she focused her attention back on the issue at hand. "I just had a really interesting conversation with a new patient, and it's come to my attention that this practice is ran by a bunch of stodgy geriatrics, with the exception of myself of course."

She raised her hand, a motion intended to stay the forthcoming flow of protests, but none of her colleagues said a word. Instead they all looked at her like she was crazy. She shook her head. "I don't know why I expected any of you to understand."

Peter, about to reach his daily capacity for boredom, interrupted her. "Please, Mindy, just spit it out."

"Fine. I just had a patient, twenty years old, artist, very chic bohemian looking girl, the kind of girl I'd totally be friends with if I lived out in Brooklyn and played a hurdy-gurdy or something, and she told me that Shulman and Associates was _not _her first choice in reproductive health, but that she would have gone to the midwives upstairs if there hadn't been such a long waiting list for an appointment." She slammed her palms down on Betsy's desk dramatically, causing the secretary to jump.

Peter and Danny shrugged, obviously not garnering the full import of her information. "Are you even listening? The midwives have a _waiting list_ for new patients. Their business is thriving, while we struggle to stay afloat."

Danny and Peter both spoke at the same time.

"We're doing fine."

"I have an extensive stock portfolio."

"Ok, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it isn't an exaggeration to say that we aren't back to full capacity, especially not with the addition of another doctor." She gestured at Peter. "Who's yet to show he can carry his weight."

"Hey. I carry my very average weight just fine."

Ignoring Peter she marched on. "And it's all because we don't know what's hip. I swear, this girl is participating in trends I've never even heard of. Freeganism. Ninja gigs. Vertical housing. And get this, she makes a living _busking _in the park."

"What the hell is that?" This time it was Danny's gravelly voice that chimed in.

She turned to him, smiling brightly. "I have no idea, and that's the point. We're so out of touch that young hip urbanites aren't even considering coming here. They're automatically signing up for some oatmeal bath and hot stone massage from the weirdo brothers upstairs."

"Duncan's oatmeal baths are to die for." Mindy jumped, glaring at Morgan, who'd somehow rose from his chair, and was now disturbingly close to her, his cloying cologne clogging her sinuses. "But he never uses enough brown sugar in my opinion."

Rolling her eyes, she stepped away from the overly perfumed nurse. "Anyway. I think we should show some support of our new _hip_ and _young_ clientele by taking her up on her invitation to attend a performance." She raised her eyebrows, trying to not immedia

tely settle her gaze on Danny. She knew this wasn't his kind of thing, and didn't want to push him. Things had been going well since they'd walked the bridge. It had been a week, and they'd eaten lunch and he'd walked her all the way home from work a couple times, but it was probably too much of a girlfriend-thing to ask him to come to something he obviously wouldn't enjoy. She turned toward Peter. "What do you say, Prentice? Join me in the park to find out what busking is?"

Peter scoffed, a rather gross snort issuing from him. "Absolutely not. The last time you dragged me to some weird 'event' it almost ended in both of us being permanently added to the New York State sex offender registry. I've learned my lesson."

Mindy scoffed. "Not both of us, buddy. No one told you to take your pants off in a public place."

"Really? Well what did you expect to happen when you dared me to streak through the zoo, after spending three hours tasting wine? It was a matter of integrity." He handed off his paperwork to Betsy before looking back to Mindy. "Either way, I'm out. You're a bad influence."

Peter returned to his office, leaving Mindy looking expectantly at Danny. When he didn't immediately volunteer, she tamped down her disappointment and turned to Morgan. "How bout it, Morgan?"

He shook his head, biting his bottom lip. "I really want to, I mean, I would love to know what busking is. It sounds like something my grandma would love, but me and Tamra already have plans to go to the quarry."

Tamra's voice rang out from somewhere in the office. "No we don't. I'm not going to some place where serial killers hang out. I told you."

"Why don't you love the things I love?" Morgan shook his head, sighing deeply as he plopped back down in his chair. "Looks like I'm gonna be busy working on my relationship tonight." He somberly rolled away, leaving Mindy to stare awkwardly at Danny.

Betsy piped up. "Why don't you ask Dr. C, I'm sure he'd love to go. Wasn't he saying how much he loved street performers the other day?"

Danny chimed in. "Actually, Bets… um, that's kind of the opposite of what I was saying."

Mindy nodded. "Yeah, Danny hates street performers, and anything at all popularized in the twenty-first century. He once told me-"

Danny interrupted her. "Hey. First of all, street performance is hardly something that's a recent development. If that's what this _busking _is…" He weighed his words carefully, feeling unwelcome perspiration break out across his forehead. "I could change my views on the matter, given the opportunity. People change."

Mindy's eyebrows shot up in surprise, a heady warmth seeping through her limbs and settling in her stomach. Danny Castellano wanted to go to the park and watch street performers with her. She knew he would hate them, probably have a dozen or so acerbic comments about it all, but he would go for her.

"Okay then. It's a date."

"Okay." His voice faltered, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a half smile, his eyes crinkling slightly.

Mindy whirled around, slipping back into her office. Catching herself in the mirror, she brought her hand up to her face. The muscles in her cheeks were tight, straining from the broadest smile she'd seen there in weeks. She'd missed that.

**(A/N: oh, and i noticed someone asked what the chapter titles meant. They're just random words relating to the chapter, translated into italian, bc i think it's adorable when Danny uses the italian words for things, even though he usually only tends to do it when referring to stuff from his childhood etc)  
**


	10. un fiore gentile

**A/N: Writer's Block Broken! Yay. I like this chapter. The inspiration for my busker came from one of my favorite performer. I strongly suggest listening to Amanda Palmer's Ted Talk on youtube. ****I'm so glad I was finally able to get this chapter written. Please feel free to leave reviews and comment if you want. I really appreciate it when someone takes the time to do so.**

The park was beautiful, a healthy mixture of tourists and locals sauntering along the pathways, old people sitting on benches feeding pigeons. It was a scene plucked straight out of a movie, except for one thing. A young girl, Mindy assumed it was her patient, had painted herself completely white, artfully using a light gray paint to indicate shadows. She was wearing a dress matching the exact color of her tinted skin, only she must have been hiding a crate or something under the bottom of the skirt, because she was inexplicably eight feet tall.

Mindy and Danny stood a good distance away, watching as people milled past the young woman. She stood perfectly still, not a muscle quivering as the occasional child stopped and tugged at her hem. Danny couldn't say he understood it, the point seeming to fly right over his head, but he kept his mouth shut, as Mindy stared at the living statue, her forehead wrinkling slightly as her brows knitted in thought.

She nudged him with her elbow, mistakenly assuming that she needed to get his attention, as if he weren't already looking at her. She whispered. "Danny."

"Ow! What? Why are you whispering?"

She shook her head, feeling silly. "I don't even know. It just seemed… appropriate?" She shrugged, looking at him bashfully. "Do you think we should go say hi or something? What's the etiquette here?"

"You're asking me?" He looked around him to make sure she wasn't talking to someone else. "How am I supposed to know? I assume the expected thing would be to go give her some money." He fought the urge to roll his eyes, wondering silently how people could consider this a day's work. Standing out in the park all day, doing nothing. He tamped down the urge to let the mini-rant fly. "I googled 'busking' while you were getting ready to leave. It just means performing in public for money."

Her face fell, the expression tinged faintly with disappointment. "I had hoped it would be something cooler, like tight rope walking in the nude. Too bad." She opened her clutch, feeling around in the recesses fruitlessly. "Darn, I don't have any cash. I gave my last twenty to my next door neighbor's son so he would go get me a latte this morning." She looked at Danny expectantly, a thousand watt smile spreading across her face. "It's a good thing you're here, with your old man billfold and what not." She took off toward the girl, smiling at him over her shoulder.

He groaned, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. "I called it a billfold _one _time, Min." She was already out of hearing distance. He mumbled to himself. "Who doesn't carry cash?" He fished some smaller bills out and loped after her, feeling an involuntary smile spread across his face. He almost didn't care that he would be leaving the park with a much lighter wallet.

He slowed as he caught up to her. She was directly in front of the living statue, reading a small sandwich board sign. Hearing his footsteps, her head snapped up, hitting him with the full force of her enthusiastic expression. His heart skittered in his chest, and he swallowed with some difficulty, his adam's apple bobbing as he closed the space between them.

She grabbed his arm as soon as he was close enough. Dragging him slightly downward, she pointed at the sign. Hand painted calligraphy instructed them to 'Breathe Life Into the Statue,' an ornate arrow pointing to an upturned tophat on the ground in front of them. It had loose change and a few fluttering greenbacks crumpled in the bottom.

He sighed, holding out the money clutched in his hand, expecting Mindy to take it from him. She made no move to grab it, instead shaking her head, she moved slightly back. "It's your money, Danny."

Even though, every bit of common sense that he'd carried around with him his whole life begged him to just tuck the money back in his wallet, walk away, perhaps while grumbling about bums in the park, he didn't. Instead, he leaned forward, unclenching his miserly fingers. He watched the cash, at least eighty bucks, fall down into the waiting receptacle.

Nothing happened, and in spite of everything, Danny was a little disappointed. He hadn't known what he expected, but whatever part of him that had been enthralled as a child watching magicians on late night television with his mother, was apparently very much alive.

Just as he was about to roll his eyes and turn away, the girl, every so slowly bent at the waist, moving her head down closer to his, her wide eyes frozen open, locked with his own. She was looking at him, really looking at him. He got the uncomfortable feeling that she was peering into his soul. Suddenly, his contempt for her mode of employment evaporated. What kind of courage did it take to stand here all day as people strolled by, ignoring you as though you were invisible? To look into the eyes of a stranger, baring your own soul in the hopes that you could get a glimpse of someone else's?

One painted hand slowly came forward, clutching a single daisy, plucked from the makeshift bridal bouquet clutched to her painted breast. She held it out to him, in an offering of sorts.

He didn't immediately take it, unsure of how to proceed. Was she really giving it to him? What on earth for? He didn't need a flower. She cocked her head mechanically at his continued hesitance, pushing her hand out further, the petals of the flower coming close to the tip of his nose. Her other hand rose, as though attached to marionette strings, pointing woodenly in MIndy's direction.

Could she tell that he owed Mindy something? An apology, a confession, something at least to make up for his past behavior. The simple daisy seemed like a paltry thing when faced with the weight of his sins. He reached up and plucked it from the chalk-white hand, feeling something inside of him relax as the young woman straightened once more, resuming her regal pose, her penetrating gaze focused in the far distance.

The spell was broken, and he turned to Mindy. She'd been quiet during the entire exchange, as if sensing something important was happening, although she couldn't quite put her finger on what. Finally, as though being granted some sort of permission she scooted back up to Danny, surprising him as she whispered in his ear. "See, that didn't hurt, did it?"

He twisted around to face her, unconsciously holding the little flower between them. She peered at it, the corners of her mouth twitching up in amusement. "I bet that's the most you've ever paid for a wild flower."

He held it up, presenting it to her like a gift. "I think it's for you? You like daisies, right, like in that movie with that Ryan woman. They're 'friendly' or something?"

Instead of eagerly taking the flower like he'd expected, she bit her bottom lip and looked away. "I don't really like that movie anymore."

Danny cursed himself. Of course she didn't like it. It was the damn e-mail movie. The guilt he'd been managing to keep at bay flooded him once again. He'd thought they were past this, her desire to cast aside all things related to romance, but perhaps this one was a little too close to home. He couldn't deny this had been his inspiration for his catastrophic scheme.

She started to turn away from him, angling herself toward the path they'd been on earlier, but he couldn't let her continue this way, the defeated set of her shoulders breaking him open just a little. He reached out, hooking his hand at her elbow. "Min, wait."

She stopped, staring up at him in surprise. He felt a lump in his throat. "Mindy, please don't let what that…" He searched the right word, wanting to berate himself completely. "...asshole did take away the things you love." He reached up, brushing her silken hair behind her ear. The daisy still clutched in his fingers, he tucked it in with the hair. "You deserve a friendly flower or two."

And just like that, she was staring at him in that way only she could, her eyes sparkling with the faint sheen of happy tears, an awed smile playing at her lips. This was exactly the way she'd looked at him the night he'd danced for her, something very akin to love radiating from within. It made him weak in the knees, and he resolved to tell her the truth, soon.

But not now. Now he just wanted to kiss her. Leaning forward, he paused, a hair's breadth between their lips, breaths mingling. He wanted to give her a moment to retreat, allow her to choose. She closed the space between them, shyly pressing her lips against his, kissing almost chastely. Something they'd never done.

Somehow, with great restraint, Danny kept his hands from roaming over her and clutching her to him, instead resting one gently on her neck, feeling the fluttering pulse against his thumb, the other hand tracing an undemanding circle at the small of her back. She pulled back slowly, staring at him as though she was seeing him for the first time, and the millionth time all at once. "Thank you."

He nodded, his words having deserted him, unsure of what to do next. He was relieved when she grasped his hand, eagerly tugging him along the sidewalk, her bright demeanor once again in place. "Ooh, you know what? I've always wanted to go sail one of the model boats." She gazed up at him eagerly. "You want to?"

He wanted to do everything and anything, all at once, and one at a time till the end of time. He couldn't say no to her. "Sure." He kept telling himself there would be time for apologies later. He just wanted her to be happy for a little longer, before he had to ruin it.


	11. La Caccia

**A/N: After much rewriting of the original outline, I finally settled on an acceptable route for the next few chapters. I'm not sure why it was so hard. Anywho, I hope I didn't wait toooo long between chapters. As always, please feel free to leave comments or reviews about whatever you like. I find them extremely encouraging.**

CH 11

There hadn't been a repeat of the gentle kiss in the park, and Mindy was trying to tell herself that she was ok with that. She wasn't having a ton of success, especially when she walked into the office each morning, five or ten minutes late, expecting to receive a stern lecture about punctuality, but instead was the recipient of a warm smile and a softly spoken, "Morning, Min."

He'd gotten into the habit of waiting for her, standing casually by Betsy's desk, sorting through mail, hoping no one noticed they way he kept glancing toward the elevator. They fell into one another's orbit, circling unconsciously. And it was fine, pleasant even. Mindy felt a surge of pleasure whenever he popped his head into her office, a question about something trivial on his lips. He would often linger after his initial inquiry had been answered, making small talk as he fidgeted in the doorway. Always the awkward preamble before he asked her to do something after work, or on the weekend. Always the hand at the back of his neck, nervously playing with the hair at his nape as he looked at the floor.

Honestly, she loved it. Never in her life had she had someone so nervous in her presence, so happy when she eagerly accepted his invitation to go grab a pretzel in the park. The immediate relief in his posture, shoulders relaxing, heading popping up, when she smiled and accepted his invitations sent tangible pleasure singing through her limbs.

She understood his tentativeness though, she felt it too. They were embarking on something new, a slow burning reboot of their former relationship, the payout of which would surely be tenfold of anything they'd had before, and yet it all felt so fragile. So far, she'd let everything go at his pace, waiting each day for him to think of some excuse to swing by her door. But she decided to make good on her word. She wanted this, and she was going to let him know it was her choice.

She clutched the thick envelope in her hand, feeling like she was sixteen again, getting ready to go to her first Sadie Hawkins dance. The door to Danny's office was propped open, something she'd notice a lot lately. It made her smile. Five years ago, she would have been hard pressed to tell anyone what color his walls were, but now she could tell you what color sweater his sister was wearing in the tiny school photo propped on his desk.

She paused before she crossed the threshold, the fluttering in her stomach giving her pause. She wasn't entirely sure Danny would be interested in the event she had in mind. She took a deep breath, ready to announce herself, when he suddenly looked up. The red glasses sliding down the tip of his nose, his lips parted in surprise. She melted a little, of course he would be interested. Her uncertainty evaporated, replaced by warmth pooling in her stomach. She felt a sigh slipping out and masked it with a soft, "Hey."

"Hey." He smiled, one corner of his mouth twitching up before he let it spread across his face, his eyes crinkling as he removed his reading glasses. He glanced at his watch, thinking perhaps time had gotten away from him, and it was time to go home. Three o'clock. He glanced back up in confusion. Mindy's suddenly quiet demeanor unsettled him. She looked nervous, running her fingers along the edges of the envelope in her hands. "Everything ok?"

The happiness that had washed over him mere seconds earlier fled in the face of her consternation. He felt sick, imagining the worst. Did she know? What was she holding? Had Morgan decided to intervene in his life once again, sending her some anonymous letter outing him? He swallowed before opening his mouth, ready to plead with her for forgivness.

She stepped forward into his office, pulling out one of the chairs before she dropped down in front of him, the smile returning to her face. "Everything's great." She waved the envelope between them. "This has been sitting on my desk, for months, staring at me, dare I say mocking me."

"Oh?"

She slipped her index finger underneath the flap, withdrawing the contents with a flourish. She held a card in front of her face, reading it dramatically. "Mindy, darling, here are two tickets to _La Caccia,_ I'm sure you'll have a date by the time this rolls around (someone more cultured than a dj/shoe salesman). Love, Your favorite aunt, Gita." She plucked the tickets from the envelope, laying them on the desk in front of her. "It's this Saturday, and… no date."

"_La Caccia?"_

Mindy peered down at the tickets, taking in the muscular form of leotard clad dancers. "I'm assuming it's some sort of ballet or something, formal attire probably required." She fidgeted with her bracelet, turning the silver bangles round and round her wrist before she cleared her throat and continued. "It's probably not your thing, right?" She shook her head, embarrassed that she would ask Danny to do something like this. This was stupid. Danny Castellano didn't want to go on a Saturday afternoon date to the Lincoln Center with her. She should have just asked him to go to a movie, something about the mob or deep sea fishing.

She sighed, reaching forward to grab the tickets, but he snatched them up just as her fingertips brushed the paper. He peered at the tickets, raising his red glasses once again so he could read the event info before looking over the tops of the frames at her. "Actually, I've been wanting to go to a dance performance at the Lincoln Center for a while now… There just hasn't been… Well, anyway, this looks like it'd be enjoyable." He trailed off, looking a little sheepish.

Mindy lit up, smiling broadly as she vibrated with excitement. "Oh my god, Danny. I totally forgot about your background in dance! You can explain everything to me, because I don't know a pirouette from a jete." She jumped up, circling around the desk to grab the tickets from his hands. "The performance is at two, so meet me at my place at one."

She paused for a second, wondering if she could give into the impulsive feeling coiling in her. What the hell, why not? She leaned down, hands on his shoulders, catching him off guard. His eyes widened in surprise as her own darted to his lips. She kissed him quickly, something indefinable clicking into place as her lips met his. It was brief, a couple pecks reminiscent of those she'd seen Richie give him in the past. Friendly smooches that shouldn't have made her want to drop everything and climb on top of him.

She caught herself, remembering that it was the middle of the day, hours to go before they could escape this office. She withdrew, her enthusiasm remaining high. "Thanks, Danny." She turned to leave, pausing in the doorway one last time. "My very own ballerino. It didn't even occur to me."

He frowned, peering out into the office. "Hey, keep your voice down. No one else here needs to know about that. Morgan is already suspicious, he asked me to give his grandma dance lessons after he saw me in the club." He tried, somewhat fruitlessly to look annoyed.

She frowned. "Wait, Morgan was in the bathroom all night. He couldn't have seen you dancing."

Danny shook his head. "Apparently there's video circulating." He gave her a pointed look, daring her not to look guilty.

Mindy merely smiled back at him, tapping her nails against the door frame. "Oh, and don't forget you have to dress nice. No denim and flannel. We're going to the Lincoln Center not the pier."

"Relax, Lahiri, I do own some nice clothes. I'm not a hobo." He shuffled the papers around on his desk, feigning interest in his work.

Danny watched her leave, a heady anticipation building in him. It wasn't a date, not really, but it felt like one. Their first date. He blinked. God, that couldn't be true. Things had happened all out of order, sinking in a mire of unrequited love before he'd even kissed her the first time. He wished he could do things the right way. She deserved as much before he revealed all the wrong things he'd done. A date was a good first step.

She turned, calling out over her shoulder as she sauntered away. "Make it neutral so whatever I wear will match."

"Of course." As if there were any other option.


End file.
